


365 Days of Fic

by lumos_flies



Category: Captain America, Iron Man - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor - Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-26 16:44:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13239864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumos_flies/pseuds/lumos_flies
Summary: I’m writing 1000 words of fic every day of the year for 2018, and this is where I’m collecting them. Important tags to follow, each chapter will have warnings in the note.





	1. Pairing List

**Author's Note:**

> Darcy and Jane celebrate the New Years by themselves.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adding in a chapter with the pairing for each fic

1\. Darcy x Jane  
2\. Howard x Maria  
3\. Darcy x Bucky  
4\. Darcy x Sif  
5\. Steve x Sadness

6\. Bucky x Natasha x Darcy  
7\. Steve x Tony


	2. New Years Eve

Darcy hated the New Years. She always had. She adored Christmas and loved planning parties and getting a great gift for those she cared about but she couldn't stand New Years. There was just something about it that she didn't quite like. It all felt like such a let down as well- no parties were ever quite as fun as you thought they would be, everyone was hung over the next day and didn't want to start their resolutions but still had to go back to work anyways. 

The past two years Tony had promised the ‘most bitchin’ party ever’ so she and Jane had always made dutiful appearances, being the technical Stark employees that they were. Jane didn't mind the new year so much as she did parties so they never stayed very long, always arriving fashionably late (11 on the dot) and leaving what was probably a bit too early (fifteen minutes after midnight when everyone was drunk enough not to notice their disappearing act). Pepper was the only one that saw them leave the second time and gave them a small smile as Tony paraded around the penthouse with an honest to got red velvet cape thrown around his shoulders. Something in her smile made it seem like she understood. 

This year promised to be different though. For one thing they weren't even on the same continent as Tony, they were in a remote part of Norway, freezing their asses off in the name of science. Darcy still only got what Jane was talking about a little more than half the time but now that they were employed by Stark there was a bit more money involved. Besides Darcy loved working for (with, Jane insisted more than once) Jane and it helped her put off any sort of real job hunting after her graduation. 

(Her graduation party had been bitchin’, Darcy could give Tony that. It seemed like it last three days straight but had only been one night. Tony had made good on his promise to introduce her to the rest of the avengers and Darcy got some courage in the form of champagne and proceeded to word vomit to Natasha about how cool she was. Luckily the super spy seemed amused by her antics and helped Darcy find a corner to sober up in. That was before Darcy tried to kiss Natasha though, causing the red head to nearly die with laughter at Darcy’s drunken seduction attempts. They had been friends ever since. Darcy counted it as a win.) 

But now the new year was slowly creeping up on them in this remote shack and Darcy was feeling antsy. Jane hadn’t come back from the store and had forgotten her cell on the table (again! Darcy was going to find a way to attach it to Jane if the scientist did it again after this) so Darcy couldn't just call her and ask when Jane would be back. They had had a small miracle in that the never ending snow had decided to end today, so the sky was clear and there wasn't much hazard from that but it was still eleven. Darcy didn't even think the couple stores in town were open this late but Jane apparently desperately needed something that couldn't wait, and had insisted Darcy stay behind. 

Darcy was pacing around the small kitchen for what seemed like the thousandth time when the door finally opened and a rush of cold air came in along with Jane, who was holding a couple of bags that looked close to bursting open. Darcy went over to help her but Jane was already moving past her to set the bags down on their table. 

“I know you hate the New Years but I got us a couple of supplies to celebrate here,” Jane was telling her, pulling out a couple of confetti poppers, those ridiculous glasses that didn't even make sense anymore, some plastic champagne glasses. “And Tony said I should splurge.” Jane pulled a large bottle of what looked like good champagne out of the second bag. Jane laid the spoils of her shopping endeavor out on the table and turned to look at Darcy with those large brown eyes full of hope. Darcy found she couldn't deny Jane anything when Jane turned the puppy dog eyes on. 

“Of course!” Darcy replied, “Besides, it'll be much nicer here with just the two of us rather than with Tony trying to kiss literally every one at midnight.” The two of them shared a look and shuddered when they remembered the first party, where Tony decided to run around in his Iron Man legs to kiss as many people at midnight as humanly possible. More than one person got a bloody nose before someone had put a stop to it. Darcy walked over to Jane, picking up a pair of the glasses and putting them on Jane, Darcy’s finger brushing Janes hair back. Jane smiled shyly at her and returned the favor, though the glasses didn't set over Darcy's own glasses. Jane’s fingers lingered as well, though on Darcy’s cheek. Darcy could feel herself blush and turned away. 

They had been doing this dance for a couple months now that Thor had gone back to Asgard with no plans to return. The distance and time had been too much for Jane, who needed someone closer. They had never discussed it much but it was just a long look here, standing a bit too close together, their fingers staying long then they should on each other but it felt natural. They had been isolated in the cabin for a month now and it had only brought them closer and closer.  
Darcy suggested turning on the tv and starting a fire and by the countdown had begun they had only just settled themselves into the couch, sharing a blanket and cuddling together for warmth. When it was officially midnight Darcy took a deep breathe and turned to Jane. Darcy pressed her lips to Jane gently, for only a moment before pulling back. It was the culmination of all the dancing around each other and the past years of friendship and everything fell into place. 

“Happy new year, Jane,” Darcy whispered, and Jane smiled in return. Yes, this new year was definitely better.


	3. A Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maria has been avoiding Howard. He sets out to find out why.

Howard Stark was not a stupid man. He knew this, everyone around him knew this. He knew that Maria definitely knew he was not a stupid man which begged the question of why she was treating him as such. She was hiding something from him and acting like she wasn't. Which was ridiculous, he always knew when she was hiding something because he hid things from her so often. It was a bad habit he needed to break but it was slow coming.

He was a good liar, and Maria was a terrible one. That was his first clue. She had this little tell, she just barely brushed the outside right corner of her mouth with her fingers while speaking. She was doing that so much now, he wonders if she's said a true word in the past two weeks. Howard sets it into his mind to figure out what's going on with his wife, but all his leads come up dry. 

He asks the maid first as he knows Maria often confides in her. But she remains tight lipped, not giving him any information in any of the three languages he knows she knows. He tries the cook, because somehow the portly old man seems to always have the household gossip, and can be bribed easily. But none of his usual bribes work on the cook, who seems to suffer telling him no. He even tries Jarvis, even though he knows Jarvis has no idea either. Jarvis gives him the incredibly unhelpful advice of talking to his wife. But if Maria would talk to him he wouldn't have to ask every person that worked for them, and then also the paper boy too. That had been a particularly low moment, one that he couldn't drink enough to fully forget. 

The next step was Maria avoiding him. He tried to pin her down, find some time to talk to her but wherever he showed up there she wasn't. Their house was large, sure, but at some point they had to be in the same place at the same time. It was the worst game of cat and mouse he had played. It seemed like she knew where he was going to try and find her at and simply vanished into thin air. It was becoming very frustrating to Howard because now it was affecting his work. Nothing ever affected his work- his work was what affected him from his life. But now he couldn't concentrate. He just wanted to know what was wrong with his wife. 

It was another week before he finally was able to corner her, in their bedroom of all places. She was in there, sitting in front of her mirror at the vanity, doing her nightly routine. Howard never understood how much money could be spent on cosmetics until he met his wife, but she always smelt like roses, and her skin was always soft when he wanted to touch her. She was the softest thing in his world, the only thing the war and what came after hadn't been able to mar. She barely acknowledged him when he came in, her face an impassive mask as she rubbed some sort of cream onto her face. 

“I know you've been avoiding me.” He tried to make it a statement of fact, an authoritative husband talking to his wife, but it came out a whine. He missed her, plain and simple, and he couldn't stop the emotion in his voice. She turned to him then, one perfectly plucked eyebrow arching up at him- putting him in his place without uttering a word. 

“I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, dearest,” Maria replied, her voice soft and innocent. “It's a big house, perhaps we simply keep missing each other.” 

“Now you know damn well that isn't true,” Howard insisted, walking closer to her when she turned away. He'd already had his drinks for the night, the vodka in his system spurring him on to grab her. “God damnit, look at me, please!” 

“Calm down,” Maria soothed, her hand coming to rest over his, the first touch she'd given him in what felt like forever. “I think you're making a mountain out of a mole hill here.” 

“Tell me what I did wrong,” Howard said, his grip tightening on her. He knew it would border on the nearly painful but he couldn't bring himself to stop. He wants to know, he needed to know how to fix this. “Tell me and I'll fix it.” He could fix anything, that's what he did. 

“You did nothing wrong,” She replied, her hand massaging his until he relaxed his grip on her. “There's nothing going on. Let's just go to bed.” 

“Are you going to sleep in here?” He asked, he had been coming to bed alone every night, with Maria sleeping in her own little bedroom. They rarely shared a bed consistently with Howard's erratic sleeping schedule, but she usually shared with him once a week. It had been three now. 

“Of course, darling,” Maria said, her smiling lighting up for him. He let her take the lead now, drawing them into bed. She always wanted to cuddle up close to him, but he kicked around in his sleep and pushed her away before he fell asleep. But not tonight. Tonight he couldn't seem to pull her close enough, breathing in the soft scent of her roses. He tried not to breathe on her, he knew the scent of vodka was thick on his tongue and he knew she hated it. 

She rested her head on his chest, and they laid in silence. He counted her heartbeats, echoing in his own chest. He noticed though, that she didn't seem to be falling asleep. 

“Maria? What is it?” Howard asked, and he could feel her pulse jump along with the rest of her. There were several long beats of silence before she finally spoke again. 

“Howard, I'm pregnant.”


	4. The Babysitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is the avengers babysitter and mediator. Bucky needs a different type of mediation. Vaguely NSFW.

Darcy rarely got angry anymore. After seeing the world implode from aliens so many times it was hard to work up any strong emotion over something like her coffee order being wrong. Aliens had given her a sense of zen, she supposed. It made working with Jane easier. Despite all the science talk Jane was a small ball of emotion, usually spite, all the time. Nobody would have ever assumed that the wisecracking Darcy was the calmer of the pair, but that's the way things were now. 

Apparently this made her the perfect babysitter for the Avengers. She rarely engaged in their arguments, just sat them down individually to talk things out. Tony fighting people over his misplaced honor incidents had severely decreased over the past year she had been working with them. Doctor Banner helped her out the most- he seemed to have an endless supply of tea ready for when she needed it. The nice loose leaf stuff too, not the stuff she picked up at the supermarket only when it was on sale. 

This zen was challenged when Bucky was brought back into the fold, after being deemed stable enough to live in the tower. He wasn't invited in on any missions yet, but he was allowed to socialize with everyone. But he resisted Darcy’s zen. He never got angry either, but insisted he didn't need any mediation. It got under Darcy's skin. She tried to drink tea but Bucky just evaded her. 

It was odd then, how she ended up on top of him, naked as the day she was born, moaning out his name. If you had asked her that morning if she thought her afternoon would end up like this Darcy would have laughed in your face. Hell, if you had asked her an hour ago if this is where her afternoon would go she would have laughed at you. But here she was anyways.   
Bucky hadn't done anything to provoke this, not really. She knew he was having some issues with Tony (a massive understatement) and wanted to know if he needed her help in working through it. He had declined in a vaguely politely way, and then smiled at her. It was the smile that did it. It was more of a smirk than a smile, and something inside her just kinda snapped. She launched herself at him, and thank god he was quicker on the uptake than she was because he caught her with little effort and brought them back into his living quarters. She had pressed their lips together furiously, pouring out her own frustration to him, and he eagerly parted his lips for more (she had checked, multiple times, if he was okay with this. She could leave, it wouldn't be a big deal, no hard feelings. He had shut her up by thoroughly going down on her until she saw stars.) 

Now she was grinding down onto him, feeling his hands (flesh and metal) grip into her hips in a way that was just this side of painful, and oh, there it was. She was on the brink when she felt his hips start to stutter and his metal hand went to his sheets, gripping down hard enough to rip them. He arched up, the most gorgeous thing she had seen in a while, and then he was breathing heavy, his shoulders relaxing. She pushed herself off him and settled down into the bed. Darcy when to stand up and start getting dressed again when Bucky reached out with his flesh hand to stop her with a soft grip on her wrist. 

“Did you finish?” He asked, voice low and gruff, and god, wasn't that a shot straight to her core. She snorted at him before taking her arm back.

“Like several times already,” She assured him. Who knew Bucky would fall victim to the fragile male ego complex. 

“But just now, did you..?” His voice drifted off with the end of his question. 

“No, but it doesn't matter,” Darcy replied, hunting for her bra. They had stripped each other all through his apartment and she had a sinking suspicion that it was out in the living room. Or kitchen. These apartments were so confusingly laid out. 

“Just give me a moment,” Bucky insisted but Darcy shook her head at him. 

“Dude. It's more than okay,” She said, walking half naked back to the living room to see her bra ripped in half. Huh. When had that happened? She didn't remember any bra ripping, but there it was. Ripped at the front. That certainly made getting back to her own apartment a bit trickier. 

“But…” Bucky said, walking after her, also completely naked. There seemed to be something else bugging him and Darcy wasn't big enough of a person to let it drop to talk about when he wasn't as open. 

“But what? We had good sex,” Darcy paused before turning back to him, “Did it like… offend your morals or something?”

“No, that's not it,” Bucky said with a sigh, running a hand though his hair, “You just seemed to like me more if I'm getting you off.” 

That brought Darcy up short in trying to control her chest into her top. She seemed to like him more? She turned to him, a confused look on her face.

“I like you just fine,” She stated, trying for as much dignity as possible when she wasn't wearing any pants. 

“You barely talk to me,” Bucky countered, his arms crossing over his chest and Darcy tried and briefly failed to focus on the conversation, rather than his muscles. She regained her composure before going on. 

“You don't need my help. I baby sit. You don't need a baby sitter,” Darcy replied smoothly, mentally high-fiving herself for sounding so mature. Bucky looked perplexed for only a moment while he processed this information before asking something that completely shocked her. 

“Can I take you out then?” He asked, and Darcy replied without thinking. 

“How does eight o’clock tonight sound?”


	5. Midgardian Dating Rituals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sif has a question about Midgardian courting rituals and poses it to Darcy. Interruptions ensue.

Darcy was bisexual. It was something she had struggled with for a while, doing the whole small conservative town during high school, and then being thrust head first into a far more liberal world but now she could safely say that she was bisexual. Maybe not out loud to anybody that wasn't Jane but, you know, in the safety of her own mind and that one time to Jane when they were drunk on tequila. Admitting it to yourself was the first step, and admitting it to your best friend/boss was the second, after all. 

But after that there were aliens and it never really seemed to come up again. Sure she hit on Thor’s studly blonde friend, and then there was the whole Ian debacle (he had asked her if this meant automatic threesomes, can you believe that?) but other than that Darcy hadn't had much time for dating of any sort. It didn't bother her much, until Sif damn near crash landed into the tower, and right into Darcy. Then the whole not dating anybody thing became a little harder because, while she couldn't be sure, Darcy was almost certain that Sif was hitting on her. 

She couldn't be really sure, since Darcy wasn't completely in the know about Asgardian courting rituals but Sif had kissed the back of Darcy’s hand after crash landing. And then again when Sif was taken into the secret Avengers floor to figure out what was going on. And then again once more at dinner when Darcy had seen her again. Darcy hadn't seen Sif kiss anybody else's hand. Darcy wasn't complaining by any stretch of the imagination. If a tall, built, actual goddess wanted to hit on her Darcy wasn't gonna tell Sif no. But still. It was strange. Darcy was awesome at data entry and had some mad scientist wrangling skills (both thanks to Jane) but she didn't imagine either of these things would be particularly alluring to Sif. Who walked around with a sword and shield. 

Darcy wasn't totally sure that she just wasn't projecting her own feelings onto Sif until Sif cornered her in the shared kitchen one day and kissed Darcy squarely on the lips. That had cleared some things up for her but it was still out of left field as far as Darcy was concerned. Darcy had only a brief moment of confusion in the actual moment however, before pressing her lips back into Sifs. It was a newer experience. Darcy had had a few drunk girl hookups in college but kissing Sif was already a unique encounter. Sif’s lips were soft like you saw in a damn chapstick commercial, but demanding entrance to Darcy’s mouth, which she happily gave. It was only when she needed to breathe that Darcy’s brain finally caught up to the situation. 

“Guh,” Darcy gasped out, before shaking her head once and trying again with, “I mean, what?” Sif pulled back, a frown forming over her soft lips before she replied. 

“Is this not how you kiss here on Midgard?” Sif asked, confusing coloring her voice, “I admit I thought it rather quick but Thor assured me this is how it is done.” And it was true that Darcy and Sif had been hanging out, Darcy using her scientist wrangling powers as an excuse on why she should be allowed to introduce Sif to society (and also nurse her crush) but Darcy had thought all those feelings had been platonic. She thought all the times Sif had been too close to her were just Darcy misinterpreting something that was commonplace on Asgard. Now she realized how wrong she was.

“No, Thor got this one right,” Darcy replied, before pressing herself up to kiss Sif back, much more thoroughly this time. Sif’s mouth parted under Darcy’s, and her hands came to rest on Darcy's hips. Sif gently pushed Darcy backwards, until Darcy felt her back hit the fridge. Sif's hands were trailing up her sides now, dragging Darcy's shirt up just a bit to expose her back to the cold surface of the fridge. Darcy shivered ever so slightly before moving her mouth to kiss at Sif’s jaw, and then lower to her neck, moving towards areas that were easier for her to reach. Sif obligingly tilted her head back, allowing Darcy access to wherever she wanted. 

Darcy wanted to thank the only god she knew for being able to convince Sif to wear Midgardian clothes because it was so much easier to undo the buttons on Sif’s blouse than it would be to get her out of Asgardian armor, but the only god she knew was Thor and Darcy didn't think Thor would completely approve of what was happening here. But Thor could also just shove it for all Darcy cared because Sif was making the most enchanting noise as Darcy mouthed at Sif’s nipple through her bra. Darcy was moving her hands towards Sif’s pants when-

“Oh my god, the kitchen?!” Tony exclaimed, and what was Tony even doing here? Tony had his own private penthouse suites. He was doing this just to spite Darcy after she had gotten the upper hand in their prank wars. Darcy groaned and pulled her head back, somewhat smug to see that Sif was breathing just as heavily as Darcy was. 

“In front of my salad, really?” Tony chastised them with a small tsk as Sif deftly did the buttons on her shirt back up and they moved away from the fridge. 

“Don't think I didn't get that reference!” Darcy shouted over her shoulder as she pulled Sif out of the room. Darcy walked them over to the elevator, trying for as much dignity as possible. As soon as they were safely inside Darcy resisted the urge to continue what started in the kitchen, and instead allowed her mouth to operate for once. 

“Okay, so, the kissing was great and all, but it was a little fast even for Midgard standards normally there's a date beforehand, do you have dates on Asgard? It's like where two people mutually interested in each other go get like coffee or something and they talk and have a good time and if it goes really well then there's the kissing,” Darcy said all in a rush, only pausing briefly to inhale. She would have kept going but Sif places a finger over her lips to stop her. 

“We do have courting rituals on Asgard such as dates,” Sif said, a smile lighting up her face as she continued, “And I would love to take you on one.” 

“Oh, thank god,” Darcy murmured, unable to stop from kissing Sif again. The elevator stopped and opened to another shocked gasp. 

“I'm sorry!” Steve squeaked out before running back down the hallway. Darcy sighed. When had this become her life?


	6. Funerals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rogers has had to go to too many funerals in his (admittedly long) life. Here are three of them.

The funeral wasn’t completely unbearable, Steve thought, I mean, it was because it was Ma, but I think she would have liked it. It was a weird experience, to think of his mother in the past tense, rather than the present. But that was his life now and he supposed he had to get used to it. Death was rather final, wasn’t it? That was the whole point of it- it was the final resting stop as some called it. What didn’t make sense to Steve was that his mother was dead. Sure, she coughed some, but she was still young, still working, she still loved him. It didn’t make sense that something as permanent as death should be allowed to happen to her. 

At least Bucky was there for him, though. That made things just a bit easier. It was easier to be strong with the solid presence of Bucky next to him. As much as he knew Bucky loved his mom as well, Bucky didn’t cry. Bucky stood there, stoic and silent, letting Steve cry as much as he needed to, offering only tissues and no judgement. Bucky was a rock, Bucky would always be Steve’s rock. So it only seemed fair that Steve followed him into the mouth of the hell that was war. Steve had just expected them to come out on the other side together.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
This funeral was unbearable, and Bucky would definitely hate it. Steve thought, as he tried to keep his face an impassive mask. It was war, it was hell, and he could not cry now. There was no Bucky to be the rock he needed, no Bucky to hand him tissues and advert his eyes when Steve’s sobs got particularly loud. The other Commandos were here with him, of course, and he cared for them all, but it wasn’t the same. They had only known Bucky a few weeks, not the years and years Steve had. It was like his right arm was missing, he felt the absence of his best friend so acutely. The funeral was barely even that. They had no time to stop in their mission, no time for the luxury of mourning. They could only take the time given to them to have a drink, say some prayers, and silently thank their lucky stars it hadn’t been them. 

At least Peggy was here for him now. She understood the power of loss, the gaping hole where love was supposed to be. She had seen what Steve was willing to do for Bucky, knew how far Steve was willing to go to save his best friend, but now Bucky had gone someplace Steve could not follow. She listened as he raged against his own enhanced body, how it couldn’t do anything now- couldn’t get drunk, couldn’t die, couldn’t save Bucky. She listened, and soothed him, and reminded him what they were here for- that Bucky wouldn’t want this, that Steve didn’t even want this. She got him up, got him moving, and pointed him towards a target he could do something about. But he would be lying if Bucky wasn’t there on his mind when the plane crashed.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Steve didn’t know how to describe Peggy’s funeral. There was no word for how he felt now. If he felt now. Everything had been crashing around him, one thing after the other, and now he was here, listening to Sharon speak about her aunt, and how had he not called that? He got why she didn’t say anything, but god, did everybody lie to him? Peggy would have remembered her own niece, Sharon could have come with him to visit, and then maybe something good would have come out of them besides Peg’s blank eyes. It killed him to see her look through him, after all the times she had been the only one to see him. 

Sam was there, next to him, but he was still at a distance. After all the people Steve had had to bury now would anybody be close to him again? Bucky had still been alive, but what kind of life could he have now? Hydra had gone in and scrambled his brains. Bucky barely remembered him, how could Bucky remember how to be a person? Sharon was still talking, but he could barely hear her over the rush of his blood in his ears. Could he remember how to be a person?

Natasha was there, after. That didn’t help. Oh, Steve knew Natasha had felt the cruel burn of loss as well, had even had friends reappear from the dead, but now he knew this pattern. Now he saw where this was going- as soon as he brought her into the loop, truly let her into his head, something would happen. With the way his luck was going Bucky would be the one who killed her. It was better here, all on his own, in his island of sadness. He could hear the echo of Bucky and Peggy laughing at him in his head, but that only stung him. He also knew that they wouldn’t want him to be like this, but they weren’t here, wouldn’t ever come back so they didn’t get a vote.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
He tried, though, he did. He tried with Sharon, tried with Bucky, and now he was a criminal. Had had to watch Tony watch his parents die. Steve knew Bucky had killed them, hadn’t seen the video though. He got Bucky out of there, because Bucky hadn’t been in his right mind, but it was so hard to look at him. So hard to see the face he had grown up with and barely recognize it at all. 

Still, he went on. Still he mourned for all the things that could have been. Pushed down the panic at the back of his mind that it would all go wrong, that he would make one wrong move and it would explode in his face, pushed it down and suited up. 

He was, after all, a soldier.


	7. Elmo Shirt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It all starts with an Elmo shirt. This one is a bit rambly

It all started with a stupid elmo toy. The kid wasn't even supposed to have it, for security protocols or whatever, but it was a five year old child and their toy. Nobody wanted to part them. So somehow Bucky ended up taking a super secret (according to Tony) picture with a child and their elmo toy. That was Bucky’s first mistake- listening to Tony. Tony was adamant that nobody else would see the picture and yet there it was, clear as day on Natasha’s phone- Bucky holding a bartered Elmo toy and a small child. Two of them were grinning, and Bucky was doing something that approximated a grin. In theory. But the kid was delighted and Natasha smiled approvingly. Why the kid was so delighted was beyond Bucky but he wasn't going to question it. 

The trouble was when Darcy got her hands on the picture. Darcy didn't blackmail Bucky with it or anything, no, that would have been easy for Bucky to deal with. The problem was that the picture so endlessly delighted Darcy to where she almost cried. She had helped Natasha in Bucky’s rehabilitation and to see actual small children so happy about Bucky seemed to tell Darcy that it was all working. It made the group therapy sessions easier after that too- Darcy usually acted as buffer between Natasha and Bucky but not she was easier to keep quiet. Which was a feat in itself as well. 

The picture delighted Darcy so much that she decided to get it printed on two different items- a shirt and a cake. Darcy insisted the shirt only counted as one thing, despite getting it printed on three shirts. One of him, one for Natasha, and one for herself. They celebrated Bucky “becoming a real hero! You're a real avenger now! Children like you!”, according to Darcy. Nobody else was invited, just their little relationship. Natasha and Bucky always seemed to go along with what Darcy wanted, especially if it was something simple like this. Eating his own face on a cake had been a weird experience, which was saying something considering his past. 

It's how they had all gotten together in the first place- Darcy drawing the two stoic spies into her radiance and warmth. Bucky and Nat had been dancing around each other for the few months that Bucky had been back- regaining memories hadn't made things particularly easier on either of them, and seeing Natasha with Darcy had pained Bucky in a way he hadn't thought was possible. And then the unexpected happened- Darcy had brought him into the fold too. 

It was both familiar and all new at the same time. Natasha had changed so much from the time he had known her into a new woman all her own. And as for Darcy, well, Darcy was an experience all new to him. He had never known someone with so much enthusiasm for life, well, ever. It felt like they all shouldn't work together but they did. 

Which is why Bucky didn't know where it went wrong. That was a lie, Bucky knew exactly where it went wrong. It went wrong living in Stark tower. With Tony Stark around, who couldn't seem to keep his enthusiasm at annoying other people to himself. It was fine when only Natasha and Darcy knew about the picture but somehow Tony found out about it too and took it upon himself to print it onto a poster. Multiple posters, actually, and then send them to every other avenger in the tower. 

Most of them just clapped him on the back, and went about their business. But Tony and Steve couldn't let it drop. Tony because he was the worst and Steve for the same reasons as Darcy. It was the worst, at least, Bucky thought privately to himself. Steve got all misty eyed and cried to him later when nobody was around. Steve cried a lot, which nobody else knew. 

Tony also cried, but it was tears of laughter when he saw the shirts Darcy had made. And then got for himself. Which lead to where they were now. 

Every single avenger together in one place. All wearing the shirt that Darcy had spawned into reality. She seemed a little bit apologetic about but not that much, standing between Natasha and himself with a wide grin on her face. It helped that Natasha was whispering barely noticeable things into his ear about what they would all be doing later. Darcy felt simply awful, Natasha was telling him, and so very much wanted to make it up to him. By the time Tony finally let them all go from the Avenger family picture as he called it Bucky was thoroughly wound up. 

But Darcy just wouldn't let the picture go, even after it was all said and done. She wanted to discuss it.  
“Darce, please,” Bucky groaned out, straining against where Natasha held him down. He could break out if he wanted to, they all knew it, but he didn't want to. “Take the damn shirt off, please.” 

“No, you know I think it's a good look,” Darcy teased him, wearing just the shirt. It was ridiculous how much they turned him on that he could see the shirt and still stay hard. She turned around in front of him, showing off the soft curve of her ass. It was the worst form of torture- the contrast between his two lovers. He wanted and needed them all at once. 

“We can go take another picture,” Bucky said, an edge of pleading in his voice. “Just take off the damn shirt and join us.” 

“You promise we can take another?” Darcy asks, her voice somehow innocent and lustful at the same time. 

“God, yes,” Buck said, his hips straining up. 

“Well, if you insist,” Darcy said, the shirt almost flying off her body and then she was in the bed with them and it was too much in all the right ways.


	8. The Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fluffy Stony.

Tony was upset, which wasn’t unusual. Tony was upset about Steve, which wasn’t that unusual either. What was unusual about the situation is that Tony wasn’t talking to Steve about it, a fact that upset Steve greatly. They had worked so hard to get to this point, where Tony would finally open up to him, where Tony could look past the face he hated his whole childhood, where Steve could see past the face that reminded him of Howard, of all that they had both lost. But now it was nearly Steve’s birthday and Tony was upset, and Tony wasn’t talking to him and Steve didn’t know what to do. He’d even gone as far as talking to Pepper, who only smiled that sad smile she had evenever Tony was mentioned, and told Steve that it wasn’t her place to speculate on what Tony was feeling anymore. 

Steve was growing more distressed, which was a feat in itself because the super serum had evened out his emotions as well. Sometimes Steve really wanted Tony to shut up, in battle, during sex, to stop whispering dirty secrets in his ear at presidential functions. But now Steve would have given anything for Tony to start talking again. It didn’t even have to be about what was upsetting him. They had been pulled into opposite missions, and so Steve hadn’t heard Tony’s voice for the better part of two weeks. But now it was the weekend of Steve’s birthday, he knew Tony was in the tower too, had seen Tony’s retreating back as he fled from Steve’s presence. It was eating at Steve hard, and within a few hours he had finally cornered Tony in the lab (never let it be said that Steve hadn’t learned a bit about the game of cat and mouse from Bucky and Natasha).

“Steve, how lovely to see you,” Tony started speaking before Steve could say a word, surprising Steve immensely, “You’re looking extra spangly today, is there something in the water? Could it just be your usual air of American apple pie sweetness is affecting reality now?”

“Tony,” Steve said, stopping when he realized he really had nothing to say now that they were in the moment, so he went with the only thing he could say, “Why haven’t you talked to me?”

“We’re talking right now,” Tony replied, but he wasn’t looking at Steve anymore and there was a thread of nervousness in his voice, a small tremor that Steve couldn’t place. His hands were just moving aimlessly on his touchscreen, not quite doing any work, just giving the appearance of it. Steve’s heart jumped into his throat, before he swallowed it back down and walked over to Tony, pulling him around to look at him. Steve was taller than Tony even when Tony wasn’t sitting on a stool, and now the height difference was only emphasized more. Tony still wouldn’t quite look at him, his eyes darting around the room to everywhere but Steve’s face. 

“Tony,” Steve said, his frown deepening when Tony still wouldn’t look at him, “Tony, look at me, please.” Steve wasn’t ashamed to admit that his voice broke a bit, not when Tony finally dragged his eyes to Steve’s face, and Steve could see panic in them. Steve knew he would have to be the bigger man here, knew he would have to be the one to bite this bullet, though it would hurt him so goddamn much. 

“If this isn’t something you want,” Steve inhaled sharply and forced himself to keep talking, “If you’d like to end this, we can. We can stop right now, and it might take a while but we can be friends again.” Steve knew he was lying through his teeth, but he hoped it wasn’t showing. It would destroy him to end this now, when they were so happy together. He would never be able to look at Tony again, never be able to joke with Tony again, never be able to be around Tony again. But if it was what Tony needed, then he would try it, for him. 

“Wait, what?” Tony yelped, getting to his feet, his hands scrambling at Steve now, “Are you breaking up with me? Why? Don’t do that. I forbid you from doing that.”

“Is that not what you wanted?” Steve asked, “We haven’t talked for nearly two weeks, you’ve been avoiding me all day, I don’t know what happened.” Steve was trying to make sense of the rapidly changing situation now, and his super senses were no match for romance with Tony Stark. 

“What,” Tony said, no a question, just a statement, “No, that’s like the exact opposite of what I want, I thought you were smart.”

“I am smart,” Steve replied, his mouth going without his brain’s consent, and he realized he had been around Tony too long if his mouth was running ahead of his brain. “I just don’t know what’s going on here.”

“I didn’t want to do this now,” Tony muttered as he walked away from Steve, over to a different work stand and started digging through the drawer, “But I see that this is a desperate time, which calls for desperate measures.” Steve chose to remain silent and let Tony talk on, happy just to hear his voice again. “I wanted to do this on your actual birthday, you know.”

Tony turned back around to Steve, holding a small hinged black box in his hands. Steve’s heart was in his throat again, though now for a completely different reason. Now he could read the terrain, and tuned back into what Tony was saying. 

“You know I love you,” Tony said, walking closer to Steve, “You’re the most stable thing in my life, my rock and my hard place, and yes I meant that the way you think, did you really think I wouldn’t say something like that while proposing?” Steve’s breath hitched as Tony dropped to one knee in front of him. 

“Steve Rogers, will you marry me?”


End file.
